Call me Chris
by crematosis
Summary: One day Steve Rogers wakes up thinking he's Chris Evans
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I saw this prompt on avengerkink and I couldn't resist. It may be a little more silly that originally intended, but I'm having fun with it.

Disclaimer: I've never met Chris Evans before so I don't really know how he'd react to things, besides the limited research I've done watching interviews and stuff. Nobody yell at me, please

Chris woke up facedown on an unfamiliar bed. Which was a little concerning since he wasn't the type to get blackout drunk. He had had a couple beers with his costars, sure, but he hadn't had that much to drink.

Unless the drunken crab legs Robert insisted that he try were a lot more drunken than he thought.

But, no, he remembered making it home. He remembered pulling into the driveway, walking inside, sitting on the couch to read over his lines.

And then nothing.

Weirdly, he didn't feel hungover and he didn't feel any residual weirdness he assumed he'd be feeling if he had been drugged. He actually felt good. Really, really good. Alert and refreshed and ready to take on the world. Must have been the best sleep of his life.

He sat up and had a look around the room. It looked a lot like how Captain America's bedroom was supposed to look. Yes, there was the shield propped up against the closet and that old-timey radio sitting on the dresser. And a quick glance downward confirmed he was wearing that brown leather jacket Steve Rogers was always wearing when he wasn't in uniform.

Oh god, had he fallen asleep on set? Well, that was definitely embarrassing.

He rolled out of bed, enjoying the plush feel of carpet beneath his feet. They had really gone all out on this set piece. The bed had been comfortable, this carpet was nice and thick and they had put all four walls up for the bedroom instead of just a cutaway. It almost felt real, like he could open the door and walk down the hallway of the Avengers' tower.

From behind the door, he could hear Jeremy Renner and Robert Downey Jr. deep in debate.

"This isn't like him," Jeremy said. "He's usually an up and at 'em kind of guy."

"Still say we should just wake him up," Downey said in a petulant tone, as if he had made the same suggestion multiple times and nobody had listened to him. "Problem solved."

"But why is he asleep right now? What if there's something wrong with him?"

"Nah," Downey said dismissively. "Nothing a bucket of water dumped over the head won't fix. Can I do it? Please, please, please? I want to see his face. It'll be great."

Chris chuckled a little to himself. Robert actually seemed to be showing incredible restraint. He was surprised the man hadn't doodled a mustache on his face by now.

Or maybe he had. He ran a finger above his upper lip just to be sure.

"There is nothing wrong with your face, Captain."

"Gah!"

Chris whirled around, trying to figure out where Paul Bettany's voice had come from. He wasn't in the room and he didn't see any speakers anywhere.

The door opened and Robert waltzed in, dressed in the AC/DC shirt he wore a lot when playing Tony Stark. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty's finally awake."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Chris said sheepishly. "Too many late nights, I guess."

Robert tilted his head to one side and gave him an appraising look. "Huh."

Jeremy followed, in full Hawkeye costume. "Dude, what the hell happened? We thought you were sick or something. And you never get sick, so that was kind of terrifying."

"Correction," Downey said. "You thought he was sick. I thought he was fine. And he's fine, see? Just fine." He thumped Chris on the back. "So, let's forget about the whole thing and get back to business."

"Right," Chris said. "Not sure when I dozed off. What scene are we on now?"

Jeremy arched an eyebrow. "Scene?"

Chris rubbed his hands together. "So, the three of us are supposed to be in the Tower. Getting ready for the Christmas party, maybe?"

"But it's May."

"I know it's May. But where are we in the scene?"

"What scene?"

"Look, I know I held up filming for the day. And I'm sorry. But if you're going to play dumb, it's going to hold things up even more."

Jeremy gave Robert a side-eye. "What's Cap talking about? You filming him in the shower or something?"

"Don't be silly," Robert said. "Jarvis does all the filming around here. But he's not going to record Cap in the shower. According to Jarvis, capturing his horrible singing voice on record might destroy his whole database."

"Not my exact words, Sir."

Huh. There was Bettany's voice again. How on earth was he keeping up with the conversation? He glanced upwards and made a nose of surprise. "They put an actual ceiling on this room?" It seemed incredibly wasteful to put together a whole room that barely featured in the movie at all.

"Uh," Jeremy said. He and Robert exchanged a concerned look.

"How do they plan on getting the film equipment in here?" Chris asked. "Does it all come apart or what?"

He ran his hands along the walls, looking for a seam. The walls felt surprisingly solid. Were they filming on location somewhere? An actual building so they wouldn't have to design the sets? That explained how realistic it all felt, but why couldn't he remember getting there?

"We're not putting film equipment in your room," Robert said carefully. "I already told you we're not filming."

"Oh," Chris said. Well, it looked like his nap hadn't affected the shooting. He had apparently done all his scenes and had fallen asleep while everyone else was doing theirs. And they had just stayed to make sure he was okay.

He flashed them a sheepish smile. "Well, I'm sorry for keeping you all. But I'm fine now, so you can just take off if you want."

Neither man looked completely convinced.

"You sure you're okay, Cap?" Jeremy asked. "You might want to get checked out in medical, just to be sure."

Chris sighed. "If we're done for the day, stop calling me Cap. That's not my name."

"Sorry. Steve."

He frowned at Jeremy. "You've been spending way too much time with Rob lately. I expect this kind of stuff from him, but not you."

"Who's Rob?" Robert asked Jeremy in a loud whisper.

Chris heaved a sigh. "Okay, you guys have had your fun." He checked his watch. It was barely noon. Wow. They must have had a really early start to the day. No wonder he had fallen asleep. "If you two are going to be like this the rest of the day, I'm going to hang out with Sebastian instead." They had become pretty good friends over the course of two Captain America movies.

"Who?"

"Sebastian Stan," Chris said with a sigh. "Come on, don't do this to me. I hate when you play dumb."

Downey's expression became guarded. "What do you want with a Stane?"

"Stan," Chris said, making sure to enunciate clearly. "Sebastian Stan. You know, the guy who plays Bucky?"

Downey's posture relaxed a little. "Oh. Bucky. Why didn't you say so in the first place?"

"Because his name isn't really Bucky. It's Sebastian."

"Always thought it was James," Jeremy said. "But what do I know?"

"I know that you miss Bucky," Robert said quietly. "But do you even know where he is right now?"

"No," Chris said through gritted teeth. "I'll call him and find out." He really wanted to know what was with everybody today. They veered between this stupid joke they had to acting concerned like he was suffering from a head injury. But Sebastian would be a good person to vent to.

He pulled out his phone and looked through his contacts. And everyone's names had been changed to their Avengers characters. Great. Hilarious. He had to have been out for at least an hour if the guys had had time to do all this. Well, at least all their pranks had been harmless so far.

Oddly, Sebastian wasn't in his contacts anymore. But he knew his number by heart.

The phone rang twice before being answered. "Who is this?" said a gruff voice.

"Sebastian?" Chris asked hesitantly.

"Steve?" Sebastian said in disbelief. "How did you get this number?"

"You gave it to me."

"No I didn't."

"Is it really him?" Robert asked in an excited whisper, practically vibrating at his side.

Chris rolled his eyes and nodded.

Robert scurried out of the room, his own phone pressed to his ear, followed closely by Jeremy. He didn't care what they were up to, as long as it wasn't some new level to this prank of theirs.

"I don't know how you got this number," Sebastian said heatedly. "But you need to forget it right now. I'm not coming in. I'm not letting those bastards touch me again."

"What are you talking about? Sebastian, you're not making any sense."

"Who the hell is Sebastian?"

Chris sighed heavily. Was everyone in on this stupid prank?

"Look," he said. "I've had a very long day and everyone's been acting weird and I can't take it if you start messing with me, too."

"You're the one messing with me," Sebastian snarled. "I told you I don't want to be found and-oh, goddamnit."

Chris stared at the phone in shock as strings of curses and what sounded like gunshots came over the other end. "Sebastian? Sebastian, are you okay?"

There were loud whoops from just outside the room and Jeremy shouted, "We got him!"

Well, this day was just getting weirder and weirder.


	2. Chapter 2

Chris tried to make sense of what Jeremy and Robert were saying when they burst back into the room. They were both talking at once, something about a successful capture, brilliant strategy, and an awesome takedown. They were sure excited about it, whatever it is. Maybe a new Call of Duty game had come out.

Robert ended by slapping Chris on the back. "So you found the guy before Jarvis or SHIELD even knew he was in the area. I'm kind of impressed. And I'm sure our super spies are jealous as hell right now."

Jeremy nodded vigorously. "Dude, you don't even know. He's always several steps ahead of us and he had no idea we were coming this time."

"Uh, thanks?" he said, still not quite sure what they were congratulating him about.

"They're bringing him in," Robert said. "And I know you'll want to see him."

He found himself dragged out of the bedroom and into a long hallway. To his amazement, the hallway was just as real as his bedroom. They definitely had to be on location somewhere.

They all got into an elevator at the end of the hallway and Robert pressed a button.

Chris' eyes widened as the number 50 illuminated on the screen and then started counting down. Fifty floors? Where the hell were they?

The elevator opened onto a truly opulent foyer. This had to be a hotel, Chris decided. A very classy hotel.

Robert pushed him along into the lounge area. "I didn't have time to assassin-proof the Tower since I had no idea you were going to pull this off for us. So it's all up to you to keep him from going postal. Whatever you do, make sure you protect the cappuccino machine at all costs."

"Uh," Chris said, blinking as his eyes focused on the complicated-looking coffee machine in the corner. He was pretty sure the thing had more buttons than the elevator.

"Oh, they're here."

The door opened and a half dozen people dressed as SHIELD agents walked in, practically dragging Sebastian along.

"What are you doing here?" Chris asked.

Sebastian was in his Winter Soldier tactical gear, but the costume looked like it had gone through hell. There were a few rips in the pant legs and smudges of what passed for dirt and dried blood across the chest. And his hair was styled like he had rolled around in the dirt a few times. That was okay, though, the Soldier was supposed to be on the run. The grime added a nice sense of realism.

Sebastian lifted his head and glared at Chris with venom in his eyes.

Jesus, the make-up people had really done a number on his face. Those cuts looked almost real.

"Fuck you," Sebastian spat. "You know goddamn well why I'm here."

No, he really didn't. He hadn't seen any mention of Bucky joining the Avengers in the script. Was he just here for a flashback?

He watched as Sebastian was maneuvered over to the couch by the people dressed as agents. The brunette was still glaring at him like he wanted nothing more than to put a hole through him. His commitment to character was really something.

Clark Gregg walked in after the agents. He surveyed the scene with a glance and then went right to Chris. "Great work, Captain. You managed to keep him on the line long enough for us to trace his location. It's a good thing he wasn't too far away. But how did you know what number to call?"

"It's always been his number," Chris said, casting another bewildered look at the sulking man on the couch.

"Ah. 325-5703?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"It's in the records, of course. In retrospect, so obvious. But then again, you know him better than anybody. You're probably the only person who could ever have come up with such a simple solution."

"We've got it from here, Agent Asskisser," Robert said. He made a shooing motion towards the door.

"I'll keep in touch," Gregg promised, tightly grasping Chris' hand. "Check in to see how he's doing."

"Is it okay if we interact like this? It's not going to throw off continuity or-no, what am I saying? We're not filming anymore." Chris laughed. "We should, though. Add it to the blooper reel." He could imagine a shot of the team watching a movie together, the sudden reveal that the Winter Soldier was sitting right beside them, and the cast's exaggerated reactions. People would love it.

"Blooper reel?" Gregg gave Downey a look. "What have you been telling him?"

"It's not my fault," Robert protested. "He took this weird four hour nap and he's been paranoid about being filmed ever since he woke up."

Gregg's brow furrowed. "You should probably get checked out in medical, Captain."

"I'm fine."

"Well, if you're sure."

Robert made a squawk of protest. "You're letting him get away just like that? Every time I say I'm fine, I get hauled in to medical anyway. Oh, but he's your favorite so I guess he can do whatever he wants."

Gregg gave Robert a mild look. "Everyone who lives with you has good reason to be paranoid. I wouldn't be too concerned unless there are other symptoms."

"Like four hour naps?"

"Too many late nights, he said," Jeremy supplied.

Gregg nodded. "I admire your commitment to training, Captain, but you'll be no use to anybody if you don't get your rest. And we'll need all the help we can get in this fight."

"Are you sure you're not in this movie?" Chris asked. "Those could almost be your lines." How great would it be for Agent Coulson to show up? It seemed like just about everybody else was playing a role in Ultron.

Gregg frowned. "I'll be in touch," he said. He made a small hand gesture and all the agents trooped out after him.

"I see why _Agents of SHIELD_ is such a popular show," Chris said. "They've got the whole team thing down to an art."

"How dare you," Robert said. "We are ten thousand times a better team than SHIELD. I get that you and Agent have a weird hero worship thing going on, but come on. We have a Hulk, a god, a super soldier, an incredible genius, and two average schmoes."

"Hey," Jeremy said indignantly.

"Sure, SHIELD functions as a unit, but that's because they're all pretty much the same, bland person. We might not get along all the time, but at least we're not mindless zombies."

Chris chuckled. "I have it on good authority that not a single person on the show is boring." Robert tended to be especially fond of his coworkers and insinuating that some other movie or show's actors were better riled him up. And it was always fun to tease him.

"Oh, you just wait," Robert said. "I'm going to hack into SHIELD again and find bios on all those guys. I bet you they all have dumb, boring hobbies like golf and coin collecting."

"If you say so," Chris said easily.

"I'm going to prove you wrong," Robert said determinedly. He marched out of the room, furiously typing away on his phone.

Jeremy groaned. "I better stop him." He waved in the direction of the couch. "Keep an eye on him. Alert us if anything goes wrong."

Chris found himself alone with Sebastian, who was still glaring at him from the couch.

"Look," Chris said. "I don't know what I did to upset you. But whatever it was, I'm sorry."

"You turned me in."

"What are you talking about? Did you get in trouble with Margarita? If you have other plans for today, I'm not going to-"

"I don't know any Margarita," Sebastian said firmly.

Chris blinked. "But she's your girlfriend."

"I don't have a girlfriend."

Well, that was unexpected. Last he had heard, the two of them were happy. Poor Sebastian. A sudden break-up would certainly explain his foul mood.

Sebastian gave him an assessing look. "You're not Steve."

"No," Chris said. "I just act like him sometimes." He flashed Sebastian a smile, hoping the joke would get some sort of reaction out of his friend.

"Not very well," Sebastian said. "You don't have his mannerisms down. You don't walk like him, you don't talk like him. You do look like him, though. I'll give you that. Hydra must have gone through a lot of effort to make you over." He shuddered. "Or maybe they've made me believe you look just like him." His eyes turned hard. "But that's as far as they'll go. I'll never let them convince me to follow an impostor."

Chris was too surprised to immediately react when Sebastian lunged at him. He found himself pinned to the ground, Sebastian's arms wrapped around his throat. He struggled, desperately fighting to pry his hands off, but Sebastian was surprisingly strong and his arm really did feel like it was made of solid metal.

Right as he felt himself losing consciousness, Scarlett Johansson aimed a flying kick at Sebastian's head, knocking him back. The two of them struggled for a moment, and then Scarlett wrenched Sebastian's arms behind his back and handcuffed him.

Chris coughed and breathed in deep gulps of air. "Oh, thank god you were here," he said. "I don't know what came over him."

"He's not the same man you knew anymore," Scarlett said. "He's dangerous."

"I got that, yeah," Chris said, rubbing a hand over his throat. "And somebody thought it was a good idea to bring him here."

Scarlett frowned. "You did."

"Oh, right," he said. He had just wanted to hang out with Sebastian. If he'd had any idea of the shape he was in, he wouldn't have called.

Jeremy and Robert rushed back into the room. "Jarvis said there was trouble," Robert began. He came to a halt and stared at Chris. "Jesus, you look terrible. What happened?"

"He let his guard down," Scarlett said.

"Steve," Robert said with a shake of his head. "Too nice for his own good."

"Stop calling me that," Chris said. "It's bad enough Sebastian's gone crazy. This joke isn't funny anymore."

Jeremy blinked. "Steve, we aren't-"

"My name is Chris," he shouted. "Steve is just the character I play in the movies."

The room fell into stunned silence.

"You see?" Sebastian said smugly. "I'm not crazy. He's an impostor."

"Get him out of here," Scarlett ordered.

Jeremy yanked Sebastian to his feet and led him out of the room.

Once they were gone, Scarlett crouched down in front of him. "Chris?" she said softly.

"Yes?"

"How long has this been going on?"

"A couple hours," Robert said. "He woke up like this."

Scarlett shook her head. "This can't be the first time. Something had to have happened, something traumatic." She cupped her hands around his face. "Chris, can we talk to Steve?"

"Uh, sure," he said. "Just give me the lines."

"No, we don't want you to act like Steve. We want you to bring Steve back."

"I don't understand," he said, furrowing his brow. "I'm an actor. Acting is what I do."

"Well?" Robert asked.

She straightened up. "Bucky's right. His eyes are softer. He hasn't seen all the things we have. But he isn't aware that he's Steve's other personality."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Chris said. "Steve is not my other personality. He's just a character I play." He looked between them helplessly. "Come on, guys. You know that, right? If you're just humoring Sebastian, he's not in the room anymore. Tell me you haven't all gone crazy."

It was one thing for Sebastian to go crazy. The stress of filming and his girlfriend leaving him might have caused him to snap and start believing he really was the Winter Soldier. But there was no way the whole cast could have lost their minds at once.

"We'll sort this out later," Scarlett said. "For now, put him in one of the cells. We have work to do and he'll just be a liability."

"Sorry, Ca-er, Chris," Robert said. He fitted another pair of handcuffs around Chris' wrists.

"But I didn't do anything," Chris protested. "Come on, guys. It's me. I'm not dangerous."

"I'll take them off as soon as we get to the cell," Robert assured him. He manhandled him back into the elevator and pressed the button for an underground floor.

Chris felt despair settle into the pit of his stomach as he was led past several glass enclosures like the Hulk containment cell from the first Avengers movie. Sebastian glared out at him from one of the cells.

"You don't have to do this," he tried one last time. "Robert, please. If this is your idea of a joke, it's gone way too far."

"Sorry, Cap," Robert said as he closed the door. "We'll come check on you in the morning and see how you're doing."

Chris slumped down to the floor. So his friends had apparently all gone crazy. How was he going to get himself out of this mess?


	3. Chapter 3

He was very disappointed to wake up and find himself still in the containment cell. Well, there went all hope that the previous day had just been a horrible dream.

Robert appeared a startling short time afterwards, almost as if he had been waiting for him to wake up. He stared intently into the cell."Steve?"

"Nope. Still Chris."

"Damn," Robert said with a sigh.

"Will you let me out of here if I tell you I'm Steve? I don't know what you guys want from me, but just give me a script and I can act however you want me to."

"We don't want you to act like Steve. We want you to be Steve."

Chris swallowed. His mind flashed to Criminal Minds episodes he had watched with crazy murderers kidnapping people, convinced they were someone from their past. And the victims had to act out the deluded fantasy or they would be killed. He quickly squashed that thought. There had to be a better explanation for the weirdness than the whole cast becoming crazed killers.

Well, it'll probably do you good to be back in familiar surroundings," Robert said as he opened the cell. "See if it jogs some memories."

Chris nodded vigorously. Anything to be out of that glass prison.

He was led back upstairs and into a spacious kitchen the size of a small restaurant. There were six ovens, several brands of blenders and two large Kitchen-Aid mixers on one counter, another counter covered with coffee presses, a Keurig, coffee grinders, and what looked like every flavor of coffee creamer and syrup imaginable. Even a coffee shop would be jealous of the variety.

Robert pointed him towards the kitchen table. "Natasha made pancakes," he said unnecessarily.

Chris could see the platter of pancakes in the middle of the table and the bottles of blueberry and maple syrup. It looked like all the rest of the cast was already starting on a second helping so they had to be damn good pancakes.

"Help yourself." Robert gave him a shove towards the table.

Chris took a step forward and then froze when he saw Sebastian glaring at him over a coffee mug. "What's he doing here?" he hissed.

"Bucky promised to play nice in exchange for pancakes," Robert explained.

"No I didn't." Sebastian glared at Chris. "I promised not to kill him."

"Same thing," Robert said cheerfully. He pulled out the chair next to Sebastian. "Sit down. Have some pancakes."

Chris took a step backward. "I'm not really that hungry."

It was a lie. He'd never felt hungrier in his life. And the pancakes smelled divine. But they weren't worth getting murdered.

"Have a protein bar at least?" Robert coaxed. He reached into one of the cupboards and waved a bar in the air. "We have your favorite, chocolate peanut butter."

"Fine," he said with a sigh. He caught the bar as Robert threw it at him and tore into it. It wasn't as good as a pancake, but it wasn't half bad.

After he finished the bar, he found Robert staring at him.

"What?" he asked self-consciously. The intensity of his stare was a little creepy.

"Anything?" Robert asked hopefully.

"Any what?"

Robert sighed. "No, that would be too easy. But, don't worry. I thought of a Plan B." He disappeared from the kitchen and returned with Elizabeth Olsen. "You probably don't remember her," he said in a slow, careful voice. "But this is Wanda."

"I know who she is," Chris said. "We're working together on this movie."

"You see?" Robert said. "He's not acting like Steve. It's like a different personality."

"I will have a look," she said in that weird Russian accent she did for the movie. She put a hand to his forehead and closed her eyes. "He does not have a split personality."

"Yes, thank you," Chris said. Finally someone was talking sense.

She opened her eyes, but her expression was unfocused, distant. "It is very strange. He believes every word." She passed a hand over his face. "I can find no trace of Steve, only this Chris."

Chris stared at the glowing red light at her fingertips. "How are you doing that?" It looked like an impressive special effect.

"Can't you fix him?" Robert asked with an impatient hand wave. "We need Cap back."

"I'll do it," Scarlett said. She grabbed a frying pan off the counter and brandished it like a weapon.

"Easy, easy," Chris said, putting his hand up in a placating gesture. "Let's just talk this thing through. No need to get violent."

He dodged her first swing, but the second connected with the side of his head and he crumpled to the ground. God, the pain was incredible. For a moment, he was sure she had shattered his skull, but then the pain faded into a dull ache.

He glared up at her. "What were you trying to do, give me a concussion?"

"Cognitive recalibration," she said with a shrug. "It usually works."

"That kind of stunt only works in the movies," he said hotly. "But this is real life. And news flash, none of us are actually superheroes. We're just actors. And there's a reason they tell you not to try stunts at home. You could have killed me, you know."

"This Chris is an actor," Elizabeth said. "He plays Captain America in a movie."

"Ah," Robert said. "That actually explains everything."

Scarlett frowned. "It does?"

"Yes. This Chris person plays Captain America. That's where all this talk about sets and blooper reels and lines is coming from. I'm just surprised nobody told us they were making a movie about us. Well, actually no. Pepper probably sent me an e-mail I didn't read. Whoops."

"But that doesn't explain why he's Chris and not Cap.

"Simple," Robert said. "Somehow, the mind of this Chris person got put into Cap's body. Hey, Thor. Your brother could do something like this, right?"

Chris Hemsworth looked up from the huge stack of pancakes on his plate. "It is within the scope of his powers, yes. But he has not done such a harmless prank since our youth."

"Harmless," Robert scoffed. "We could have been in the middle of a battle and this Chris guy would have no clue how to throw the shield and we'd all be screwed."

Hemsworth stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I see your point."

"No, no, no," Chris said. "You guys are making even less sense than before. What is this talk about my mind and Cap's body and ugh. Just stop. I'm not Cap and I'll never be Cap. I'm just an actor."

"Oh god," Robert said. "He thinks this is all a prank his costars set up. He thinks this is just-" He doubled over laughing. "Oh, your friends sound like great people. We should all meet them. That'd be fun, wouldn't it, guys?"

Scarlett sighed and shook her head. "Look, Chris, this all really happening," she said gently. "We need you to stay calm and tell us about who you are and where you're filming so we can get you back into your own body."

"But this is my body!"

Scarlett pushed him down the hallway and into a small bathroom. "Is this really your body?" she asked.

Chris gaped at the face in the mirror. "Whoa." He had put in a lot of work getting himself in shape to play Captain America, but the man in the mirror looked even more athletic.

She squeezed his shoulders. "You're the real deal now. Actually Captain America. Which is why I knew hitting you with that pan wouldn't have really hurt you."

"Not really hurt me?" he scoffed. It had hurt like hell.

But, he turned his head to one side and examined his reflection. It hadn't left any lasting marks. There were no bruises, no blood. Cap's healing factor was just as amazing as advertised.

No wait, what was he thinking? He was letting their craziness get to him. He backed away from the mirror in horror.

"Chris?" Scarlett said gently. "I know this is difficult to understand, but-"

He pushed her hand off his shoulder. "Stop it. Stay away from me. I'm not letting me talk you into your madness."

"It's not madness. We're the real Avengers."

"The Avengers aren't real! They're comic book characters."

She made no move to stop him as he rushed out of the bathroom.

"Well?" Robert asked.

Chris breezed right past him too, heading for what looked like the front door.

"Hey," Robert said. "Where the hell are you going?"

"Home." He unlocked the door and tugged, but it still wouldn't open.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Chris," Paul Bettany intoned.

"Jarvis, no," Robert said with a sigh. "He's already freaked out. Don't go HAL on him."

Chris spun around and found that everybody had followed him out into the foyer. "I want you all to stay away from me," he growled. "Filming's over. You have no right to keep me prisoner here. I have a life outside of Marvel. Friends, family, my own house. If you're not going to let me leave, I'm calling the cops. And then I'm calling my agent because I never want to work with you people again."

"Yeah, Agent's probably a good call," Robert said as Renner and Hemsworth peeled him away from the front door. "Let's all sit down and have a nice, calm talk like reasonable people while we wait for him. Jarvis, you got this?"

"Yes, sir. Agent Coulson has been notified."

Chris sighed as he was dragged back into the kitchen. It seemed he had no choice in the matter.


	4. Chapter 4

It was pretty intimidating having all of his costars sitting in a circle around him. If they wanted to air for a calm and reasonable environment for their little talk, they were really missing the mark. He felt more like a new species of animal they were all staring at.

"So," Robert said. "Let's go over things one more time. Hi, I'm Tony Stark and these are the actual Avengers." He gestured to everyone else. "Your name is Chris, but right now you're in Captain America's body. Is that making sense now?"

"No," Chris said.

Robert sighed. "I thought things were going so well," he said. "And then you freaked out on us. Did Nat say something? Trust me, she only looks scary. Threats of violence are just how Russians express affection."

"I didn't threaten him," Scarlett said in an irritated tone. "He just freaked out."

"Because you guys aren't making any sense! The Avengers are just characters from a comic book. They're not real."

"Not real?" Robert said with a raised eyebrow. "People have accused us of being villains, of making disasters worse, of being part of the Illuminati. But nobody has ever claimed we don't exist. I mean, what the hell, you had to have seen us fighting at some point, right?"

"In the movies," Chris said. "It's just stunt work and play-fighting. None of it's real. Come on, Thor's hammer is made of styrofoam." He almost grinned thinking about Hemsworth trying to catch the damn thing and make it look like it actually had weight.

"Nay," Hemsworth said, the kitchen counter creaking ominously as he leaned his weight against it. "You would dare suggest Mjolnr-"

"Easy, easy," Renner said quickly. "He's not insulting your hammer's honor or whatever the fuck you think. His actor buddies just have a replica of your hammer that's made of styrofoam."

"Ah," Hemsworth said. He sat back heavily in his seat. "Then I am flattered. It is a great honor to have one's life commemorated on film."

Mark Ruffalo shook his head and sighed. "Trust me, Thor. It's not as great as it sounds."

Robert grinned slyly. "Oh come on, Brucie. I think Edward Norton played you pretty well."

Chris' jaw dropped. "So now you're willing to admit it's just a movie?" What the fuck was with them?

"Duh," Robert said. "Norton doesn't look a thing like Bruce, I'll admit it. But he's a great guy and he was happy to do the movie when I approached him. Bruce was feeling pretty down after Ultron. Thought everybody saw him as a monster. But the general public likes him a lot better now that they know what he's been through."

Chris stared at him. "But that movie came out years ago," he said. "Way before Ultron. It's Bruce's origin story."

"Yeah, I know. It helped clear up a lot of people's fears about the Hulk. They don't see him as a terrible monster anymore. They see this poor guy who's been through hell and is trying his best not to hurt anybody."

Chris pressed his hands against his temples. "Okay, your insane logic is hurting my head now. You didn't make this movie. It wasn't even your idea." It was one thing for Robert to be convinced he was actually Tony Stark, it was another for him to start believing he was Stan Lee or something.

"Sure it was," Robert said.

"And that's why he made sure to point out that my condition prevents me from having sex," Mark said with a sigh.

"Hey, you should be thanking me. I'm sure everyone out there is sympathetic to your plight now. I mean, having to go without sex for the rest of your life? That's harsh. I don't know how you do it."

"Back to the issue at hand," Mark said loudly. "Chris still isn't convinced."

"So," Robert said. "We'll go over the basics one more time."

"No," Chris said. "Let me go over the basics. Your name is Robert Downey Jr." He pointed to Mark. "Mark Ruffalo. Scarlett Johansson. Chris Hemsworth. Jeremy Renner. Elizabeth Olsen. Sebastian Stan."

Robert scrunched his nose. "Oh, look at that. Chris has given us all nicknames. I hate to break it to you, Chris, but-"

"It's not a nickname. It's who you really are. Don't you remember? You've stared in so many other movies. You have a life outside of the Avengers. Like your wife and your kids."

Robert did a spit-take with his coffee. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said. "You've got the wrong guy. Married? Me?" He shook his head vigorously. "I am the last man on earth anybody would want to marry."

Jeremy giggled beside him. "Yeah, can you imagine Stark with kids?"

Chris turned his attention to him. "You have a kid, too."

"Kids," Jeremy corrected.

"No, just one. Unless you have another secret kid you're hiding from all of us."

"Uh," Jeremy said. He exchanged a puzzled look with Scarlett.

"And Mark's married with kids, too," Chris continued. "And so is Hemsworth. Actually, I think most of you guys are married now. I mean, Sebastian and I aren't. And Scarlett isn't. But for a while, she was married to Ryan Reynolds. You know, the guy who played Deadpool?"

Robert's jaw dropped open. "Wait, you used to be married to Deadpool? Holy shit. Think of all the stories we've been missing out on."

Scarlett crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not married. And neither are you. Chris is clearly delusional."

"And Elizabeth." Chris smiled apologetically. "I'm afraid I don't know much about you other than the fact that your older sisters are the Olsen twins."

Robert cackled. "Oh yes, keep telling us all about the bizarro world versions of…" His eyes went wide. "That's it! He's from an alternate universe."

"Okay, now I think you're going crazy," Scarlett said.

"No, no, it makes perfect sense. Bruce, back me up on this."

"There have been theories," Mark said. "There are supposedly an infinite number of universes. Each one is similar to ours, but there are always a few slight differences. There might be a world where Steve died in the ice or where he never took the plane down at all and lived out the rest of his life in the 40s."

"Exactly," Robert said. "And there's apparently a universe out there where the Avengers are just characters in a movie and Chris here is acting as their Captain America."

"That's crazy talk," Chris said. "That's the weird sort of sci-fi that only happens in movies."

"And that's what everyone in those movies says, right before shit becomes real." He clapped Chris on the back. "Come on, I'll prove it to you. Get yourself washed up and meet me up on the roof."

"Is that really a good idea?" Ruffalo asked.

"Of course it is. It's my idea and all my ideas are good. Just think about it. If he won't believe us, maybe he'll believe his own eyes."

To Chris' relief, the rest of the group seemed to consider this a good a solution by now and started wandering off to do whatever else they were supposed to do for the day. It felt so nice not to have everybody staring at him.

"Go on, shoo," Robert said with an impatient hand wave. "Jarvis will take you to Cap's floor."

Reluctantly, Chris got into the elevator. A shower did sound like a great idea. He probably needed one after spending all day in that cell. But he wasn't sure what Robert was planning on showing him. Considering the day he'd had, it could be just about anything and that kind of scared him a little.

The elevator doors reopened on the 28th floor. "Captain Rogers' bedroom is the third door to your left," Bettany's voice announced. "There are three bathrooms on this floor, but the one Captain Rogers normally uses is to the left of his sleeping quarters."

"i'll take your word for it," Chris mumbled.

He opened the door to the bathroom and frowned. It was a lot more austere than he'd expected. Everything was clean and shiny, as if it had barely been used. And there was a whole box of different soaps and shampoos sitting beside the bathtub. Most of them had never been opened.

Well, whatever. He didn't need to read any significance into it. He just needed to take his shower.

He grabbed a neatly folded towel off the counter, picked a random bottle of soap and shampoo and hopped in.

It was a real high-quality shower, with plenty of different water settings. He settled for just turning the water up as high as it would go, letting the heat soothe his achy muscles. The cell had been padded, but it definitely wasn't as comfortable as a real bed. The shower was sweet relief.

He basked under the water for a few minutes and then reluctantly forced himself out of the spray to look for the soap. Washing off all the grime would feel good, too, he reminded himself.

The soap smelled a little weird, like mint and eucalyptus. But at the moment, he really didn't care. He just lathered it up in his hands and started to wash his chest.

He froze, staring at his bare skin in horror.

His tattoos were gone.

Well, fuck.


	5. Chapter 5

Chris allowed himself time to have a mini freakout before meeting Robert….well, Tony up on the roof.

He pressed the heels of his hand against his forehead. He hadn't wanted to play Captain America at first. The thought of being locked into a multi-movie contract had made him a little anxious. But that was stupid to think about now. Because here he was, probably trapped playing Cap for the rest of his life.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to remain calm. The Avengers were superheroes. Actual superheroes. They'd figure out how he got here and how to get him home. They weren't just going to let him stay trapped in their world forever.

Somehow he pulled himself together enough to rifle through Steve's closet. The guy needed to get out more often. About 70% of the clothes were some form of sweats or gym clothes. The rest was pressed khakis and polo shirts. But at least Steve owned a pair of Nikes. Chris could make do with those.

Once he was dressed, he walked back into the elevator.

"Uh, Jarvis?" he asked hesitantly. He felt so stupid talking to the A.I., but he reminded himself that Jarvis was real.

"Hello, Chris," Jarvis responded immediately. "Shall I take you up to the roof now?"

"I guess." The sooner he got up there, the sooner he'd get it over with.

The elevator opened onto the rooftop and Chris stepped out immediately, his initial reluctance lost at the incredible view that greeted him. Oh god, it was amazing. It was just like the movie, but all real. There was Tony's landing pad at the far end, the giant letter A on the side of the building, and holy cow, they were really high up.

He took a step back from the edge, just to be safe.

"Yeah, probably a good idea," Tony said. "Even a super soldier wouldn't survive a fall from this height."

Chris whirled around, finding Bruce and Tony standing close by. "You two?" he asked, perplexed. What exactly was Tony planning on showing him that needed Bruce's help?

"I'm just here to make sure he doesn't do anything foolish," Bruce said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Tony huffed. "I make one murderous, evil robot and nobody trusts me anymore. Come on, Brucie. I'm just showing him the sights. Nothing dangerous."

"You do that," Bruce said, pointedly not moving.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine." He pointed out into the distance. "So, this is New York. Looks nice and pretty, right? But if you'll look to your left, you'll see some lovely destruction left over from last week's battle."

Chris stared at the big crater in the middle of the city. It stretched across half a block, both pavement and buildings sunk down into it.

"Holy shit," he breathed out. "What did that?"

"Language," Tony said immediately.

Chris gave him a look. "That's only funny when I'm playing Captain Goody Two-Shoes."

"Oh my god," Tony said delightedly. "Can we keep this guy?"

"No," Bruce said. "I'm sure Chris wants to go back to his own world. Isn't that right, Chris?"

Chris nodded. "Your world is fascinating. But I do have a family and friends to get back to."

"Well, look at that," Tony said. "You can actually be reasonable and admit this is actually happening."

Chris gave him a flat look. "Maybe in your world it's normal to wake up in a different body, but not in my world. I don't think I was being unreasonable thinking you all had gone crazy. That makes a hell of a lot more sense than ending up in some other universe."

Bruce elbowed Tony. "Go easy on him. We didn't realize what happened right away, either."

"So you know what happened?" Chris asked hopefully. If they could figure out how he got into the Avengers' world, they could figure out how to send him home.

"Er, not exactly," Bruce said.

"Still think Loki did it," Tony said with a sage nod. "When it doubt, blame all the freaky magic shit on the freaky sorcerer guy."

"Well, any idea where Loki is?" Chris asked. "In my world, we haven't seen anything from him since the second Thor movie. And since you guys seem to be a year or so ahead of my world-you did say you had time to finish making a Hulk movie after Ultron, right? Well, we're filming Ultron right now." He sucked in a breath. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, I hope you guys have some idea where he went while he was offscreen."

"Sort of," Tony said. "He was here last month and let me tell you, still a pain in the ass to fight. At least he didn't have his lizard buddies helping him this time. But we didn't manage to actually catch him and he left anting about taking us down from the inside. Turning doubt and betrayal into his weapons. But nobody knows where he went afterwards."

Chris sighed. "Well, it was worth a shot."

"Thor could probably track him down," Bruce said quietly.

"Look at us," Tony said proudly. "We lose our Man with a Plan and we can still come up with ideas on our own."

"We're still getting Steve back," Bruce said in a warning tone. "You don't have to like Steve, but you have to admit he'll be better in a fight than Chris."

"Oh, right," said Tony. "You're just an actor. No fighting experience. Fuck. We better pray no villains show up until you get home."

"I act as Steve," Chris said. "I have some idea how he fights. Well, if the movie scripts are accurate."

Tony sighed. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but you need to do some training. With the real shield, not the styrofoam prop. And fighting moves that aren't just stunt work." He gave Bruce an unhappy look. "I can't believe I'm being the voice of reason here. What is the world coming to?"

Bruce shrugged. "Stranger things have been known to happen."

"Sir," Jarvis said. "Agent Coulson has arrived."

"Yeah, okay," Tony said. "Come on, Chris. Let's run my brilliant idea by the Agent."


	6. Chapter 6

Agent Coulson and six SHIELD scientists were waiting for them down in the den.

Coulson looked vaguely unhappy as he reached out to shake Chris' hand. "I'm sorry, Mr. Evans," he said. "My team would like to run a few tests on you to see if they can figure out how this happened."

"Pretty sure it's Loki," Tony muttered under his breath.

Coulson didn't even look in Tony's direction. "Everything's set up down in the lab. If you'll follow me."

Tony grumbled about SHIELD hijacking his lab, but he didn't seem interested in actually kicking them out. Chris suspected he really didn't mind, but felt he had to offer some objection just to keep up appearances.

God, the movies had done a fantastic job with his character.

Chris settled himself on one of the lab benches the SHIELD techs had cleaned off and submitted to the battery of tests they had prepared. They took a sample of his blood, listened to his heartbeat, scanned him for radiation, and took X-rays and photographs from what felt like every possible angle. After two hours sitting in the same spot, he was staring to get a crick in his neck.

Finally, Bruce took pity on him. "We're going to look over what we have before we start the next round of tests. Take a quick break to stretch if you need to."

God, a break had never sounded better.

While Bruce conferred with the other scientists in a corner of the lab, Tony reappeared from wherever he had been hiding. "This is probably gonna take awhile," he said in a low voice. "Want a snack while you're waiting?"

Chris rubbed a hand over his stomach. Something to eat sounded fantastic right about now. Steve's metabolism was ridiculously fast.

He cast a quick look around the lab. Everybody was busy poring over their data so hopefully they wouldn't miss him if he stepped out for a few minutes.

In the kitchen, Tony tossed a bag of veggie chips at him. "These are Steve's favorite, I think. He eats them a lot."

Chris could see why. They were actually pretty good. And before he realized it, he had eaten almost half a bag. "Sorry," he said, guiltily folding up the rest of the bag. "i'll save some for the rest of you."

Tony shook his head. "Shame on SHIELD. Starving a national icon like this. I expected better, especially from Coulson."

"I don't think he really likes me," Chris said. "It's like he's offended I'm in Steve's body."

"Nah, he's just bitter we figured out you're not Steve before he did. Probably hurt his pride as a professional fanboy." He peered into the fridge. "Want anything to drink?"

"Bud Light, if you got any."

Tony's eyes lit up and he grabbed a six pack of bottles out of the fridge and deposited it in front of Chris.

Chris was a little taken aback by how thrilled Tony seemed to be that he wanted Bud Light, but then supposed Cap didn't drink that often and seeing him drink was kind of a novelty for Tony.

He twisted off the cap and lifted the bottle to his lips. "Well, I wouldn't be too upset with myself if I were him. It's not like he was here the whole fucking time. He just stopped by for five minutes."

Tony cackled. "I just can't get over the profanity that comes out of your mouth. Cap would have kittens if he heard you cursing. I don't get what's the big deal. He was in the army. Probably heard cursing all the time. Hell, he probably cursed a lot himself."

Chris knew it was none of his business, but he felt compelled to defend Steve's rationale. "I think he just doesn't want civilians to overhear. Think of all the people watching you guys fight. He probably just wants to set a good example for any kids watching."

He gulped down the rest of his beer. Wow, that tasted better than he remembered. Cap had to have enhanced tastebuds.

"Nobody was watching in Sokovia," Tony said. "And still, 'language, Tony'."

Chris shrugged and reached for another beer. "He did say it just slipped out. Probably just forgot you guys weren't in the middle of New York anymore."

Tony stared at him. "How did you know that?"

"It's in the script. Well, the 'it just slipped out' line, anyway. And I'd like to think after all these hours pretending to be Steve, I have some idea what he's thinking."

Tony frowned at him. "You're taking this really well."

Chris shrugged. "You guys are good at what you do. You'll get me home eventually. I just have to sit tight until then."

"An amazing change of perspective from all the yelling and freaking out earlier."

Chris gave him a look. "We went over this. I thought you were all messing with me. But now I know the truth."

"And you're not freaking out about it? I would have thought there'd be more hysterics."

"You want hysterics? Worm hole."

Tony's eyes went wide and he clutched his hand to his chest.

"Oh god," Chris said. "I'm sorry. That was mean. That was really mean."

Tony let out a shaky breath. "My fault," he said. "I antagonized you." He shook his head. "Damn, you really can pull off Cap sometimes. I see why they picked you for the job."

"Sure," Chris said. Although he was beginning to feel more like he was fated to play Steve Rogers. He had never really had a choice about taking the role, he only thought he had. "I'm still sorry for bringing it up. I've seen the Iron Man movies. I know the nightmares you get, the panic attacks."

"I'm getting better," Tony said. "This was a relatively minor freakout. I assume the movie's captured some of my more spectacular meltdowns."

"You could say that," Chris allowed. "But people like seeing their superheroes a little flawed. Makes them more human." He uncapped his third beer. "Even Captain America has his flaws. The inability to get drunk being one of them." At least the beer still tasted good.

Tony grinned. "Oh, he has his share of flaws. Believe me. He's broken a couple doorknobs and refrigerator doors, he likes country music of all things, and he can't cook to save his life."

Chris smiled and nodded. It was nice to know a little bit more about the side of Steve they didn't see on-screen.

"I mean, his flaws aren't as big as mine, but still."

"But still," Chris said, grinning into his beer. Steve really wasn't supposed to be able to get drunk, right? He kind of felt a little drunk at the moment.

"I'm glad you two would rather drink than solve our problem," Coulson said suddenly from right behind them.

Chris flailed and fell out of his seat. "Holy shit, you're a ninja."

Coulson looked down at him and sighed. "Stark, what have I told you about the Asgardian mead?"

"Works on super soldiers," Tony said cheerfully.

"Damn," Chris said. "And I thought it was just good beer." He felt just a little disappointed.

"Sorry," Tony said. "Another one of my flaws is the desperate desire to see Captain Perfect drunk. You know, for science."

"We've got a lot more science to do," Coulson said. "And thanks to you, Mr. Stark, we won't be able to finish our tests now."

"Aw, he's not that drunk," Tony said. "Just enough to take the edge off. He's a civilian, remember. Nervous as hell. I'm totally helping you guys out."

"Sure you are. Having Mr. Evans drunk for the first round of training will definitely be helpful."

Tony shrugged. "He'll metabolize it pretty quickly. By the time you're done being bloodsucking leeches, he'll be ready to go. And if not, hell, he can take the first couple shots at me. I'm pretty shitty at hand to hand combat out of my armor. Might as well start him off with the easiest opponent."

Coulson gave him a long look and nodded. "Might as well train you while we're at it."


	7. Chapter 7

Tony was right. The drunken buzz had completely faded away within the hour. But Coulson still insisted that he needed to start sparring with Tony. Understandable. The others specialized in actual hand to hand combat while Tony relied mostly on his suit. Still, Chris knew what a sneaky and resourceful person Tony was. He could expect a few underhanded moves to make up for the lack of athletic skill. But that was fine. Great, actually. He couldn't expect a villain to always play by the rules.

Chris stepped into the boxing ring in the middle of the gym, trying to ignore Natasha lounging against the ropes and Coulson standing against the wall. It was better to pretend nobody was going to see him get his ass kicked.

Tony stepped into the other side of the ring and immediately dropped into a fighting crouch. "Alright, Chris. Hit me."

"Oh, this'll be good," Natasha muttered under her breath.

"Alright," Coulson said. "Five minutes. Showcase whatever moves you have. We want to see what we're starting from."

Chris hadn't really done any of the fighting in the movies, but he had seen some of the stunt work. He knew how Steve was supposed to fight. Usually, it was with his shield. But that wouldn't really be fair to Tony right now. So he settled into his own fighting stance.

Coulson clicked a button on his stopwatch. "Time starts now."

Tony immediately lunged at him. Chris easily sidestepped him. Tony followed up with a series of equally avoidable hits.

Sure, Tony wasn't known for his hand to hand skills, but Chris had the sense that Tony was going easy on him and it irritated him. So he pulled out some of the grappling moves Steve was known for. Tony managed to land a few hits of his own, but really, it was like he wasn't even trying.

When Coulson called time, Tony was flat on his back, breathing hard.

Chris helped him up from the mat. "How are you so bad at this? You train with Happy in the movies."

"I did," Tony said. "But he's busy being chief of security for Pepper now. So I just train with Barton."

Chris stared at him in disbelief. "And he's not teaching you any fighting moves?"

Tony shrugged. "We usually just go for a few rounds of target practice." He pointed to a dart board on the wall with a few bullet holes and scorch marks in it.

Chris frowned. "I doubt Steve's very happy about that."

"Nope. He kind of makes the same face you're making right now. The 'Disappointed in Tony' face. Funny how good you are at it. Must be a Steve thing."

"Gentlemen," Coulson said. "If we're finished speculating, I'd like to go over the data we collected."

He had video, because of course he did. And he and Natasha spent time frame by frame showing him what was wrong with his technique.

"And your biggest mistake was letting your emotions get the best of you. Stark can be a nuisance at times, but you can't let him get to you. The Avengers have a lot of enemies and most of them would love baiting you into a trap. So keep that in mind. They won't all be as easy to defeat as Stark is."

"Hey," Tony said indignantly.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "We'll talk about your lack of technique later. For now, I think Chris is ready to move on to another opponent. Clint's going to help you work on blocking with your shield."

Clint strolled into the gym with a pistol in his hand. "Alright, I'm ready."

"You're actually going to shoot at me?" Chris said incredulously. If they thought he could recreate that famous scene with Peggy, they obviously thought way too highly of him.

"Relax. I'm using blanks."

"Those can still kill you."

"Only at close range." Clint raised the gun. "Think fast, Chris."

Chris hurriedly grabbed the shield from Natasha's hands and held it in front of his face, blocking the shot.

"Not bad. Let's do a few more."

Chris was forced to keep moving around the ring, throwing up his shield to block. Clint managed to shoot him a few times and it hurt, but it felt no worse than getting hit with a paintball gun.

After what felt like forever, Clint holstered his gun.

And then Natasha stepped into the ring.

Honestly, Chris was more afraid of an unarmed Natasha than he was of Clint with a gun.

"We're going to practice some grappling," Natasha said. "It's Steve's specialty and when I watched you try it, it looked like you were going to hurt yourself."

Chris sighed. "Yes, I suck at fighting. I know. You don't need to keep rubbing it in."

"And you don't need to keep thinking that way. You just need to get better."

Chris didn't see how he was going to get better in a day, or even a week. These people trained to fight their entire lives. Which made him feel only slightly better about himself when Natasha managed to jump on his back and wrestle him down to the mat in under thirty seconds.

"Again," she said as she released him from her chokehold.

Coulson finally called a break for dinner. By that time, Chris felt like he had been punched by a herd of elephants. He didn't have any visible bruises, but he felt exhausted and achey all over.

"First thing tomorrow you'll go for a run," Coulson said, making a note on his clipboard. "After breakfast you'll spend time with the heavy bags. After lunch, you'll work on throwing the shield to hit a target. And then we'l see if Sergeant Barnes can be persuaded to spar with you."

Chris groaned. They had to be trying to kill him.


	8. Chapter 8

The next week felt like torture. Chris had thought his training for the movies was hard, but well, he was never going to complain about hours in the gym again.

Natasha assured him that they weren't pushing him any harder than they usually pushed Steve, but by the end of every training session, Chris felt sore all over and ready to crash for the next twelve hours.

At least he always felt okay by morning. Thank god for the serum.

Chris groaned as Coulson read out the day's training activities. It always started with a five mile run. And every day, they expected him to run faster. Today, they wanted him to do it in 20 minutes.

"You'll have half an hour for breakfast," Coulson continued. "Then you'll spend time in the gym. Natasha will have targets set up for you. You'll have an hour to practice your shield throws and another to practice hand to hand combat. Then we'll go over your technique and see if you've improved since yesterday. After that, you may take an hour for lunch. After lunch, we'll do some sparring. Natasha or Clint will be your opponent. Unless Sergeant Barnes would like a chance."

"Yeah, sure. I can take him," Bucky said.

Chris stared at him in surprise. For a solid week, Bucky had met all of Coulson's offers with narrowed eyes and silence. What had changed his mind? Maybe he had gotten good enough that Bucky finally considered him a worthy opponent. Or, more likely, he had gotten tired of Coulson's prodding and decided to just get it over with.

"We'll see how it goes from there," Coulson said. "Maybe today's the day Chris will make it to night training."

Tony perked up in his seat at the kitchen counter. "Hell yeah. Dummy and You have been looking forward to it. They've been thinking of it like laser tag."

Chris sighed and dropped his head onto the kitchen table with a heavy thud. He would probably make it to that training in a couple years time. And then immediately get blinded by the first attempt to deflect the laser.

God, he was a fucking failure.

"No time for moping," Coulson said. "Let's get a move on, Chris."

Reluctantly, Chris got up to get changed into Steve's usual sweatpants.

The day only went downhill from there. First, he did his morning run four seconds slower than Coulson expected and was treated to his look of long-suffering disappointment. And then he got distracted by Bucky lurking around the corner while Natasha was trying to teach him a new move and she ended up punching him in the face.

It really said something about how often that he was injured that Natasha just directed him to the corner of the ring and ordered him to stay put while she grabbed some ice.

Chris hung his head as he pressed the ice pack to his aching cheek. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong. I'm supposed to have super strength and super reflexes, right? This shouldn't be so hard."

Natasha's expression softened just a fraction. "Having superpowers means nothing if you don't know how to use them properly. Steve would probably be the first to tell you that he came out of that chamber awkward and clumsy and he had to learn how to use his new body. Same with you. All it takes is a little practice."

"A lot of practice," Chris said glumly.

"Not much different than acting."

"I can act like Steve, but I'll never be him."

Natasha shrugged. "Just have to fake it till you make it. That's still a saying in your world, right?"

"Right."

Natasha looked over her shoulder at Bucky, who was still hovering in the doorway. "You ready to have a go with him already?"

"Natasha," Chris protested, waving the ice pack.

"You'll be just fine in a minute. The serum, remember? And it might be a good idea to get this match in before lunch. You're always less energetic after lunch."

Bucky snorted and ducked into the ring. "If this is him at his best, I'd really hate to see him at his worst."

Chris sighed. "Actor, remember? None of your training. I'm just winging it here."

Bucky's eyes glittered. "That's how Stevie always did it. And somehow he always made it work." His expression sharpened. "Let's see if you can live up to that."

For the first few minutes, Bucky just circled around him, making quick feints and critiquing Chris' awkward attempts to block his attacks. Apparently satisfied with Bucky's teaching, Natasha walked away to speak with Coulson.

As soon as she was gone, Bucky charged, sending him flying into the ropes.

"What the hell was that?" Chris demanded as he struggled back upwards.

"Training time is over," Bucky said with a feral grin. "Now let's see how you do in a real fight."

Chris was lucky enough to block most of Bucky's punches, but he was so busy paying attention to his fists, that he wasn't watching Bucky's feet. And of course, Bucky knew a sneaky move to sweep his legs right out from under him.

He landed flat on his back with enough force to knock the wind out of him. And before he could even move, Bucky tackled him, pinning him down with his metal hand around his throat.

"Okay, you win," Chris gasped out. "Now let me up."

"No." Bucky's hand tightened around his throat.

Chris sputtered and pried at Bucky's fingers. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I win," Bucky said with a grim smile.

Chris squirmed, futilely trying to dislodge Bucky. "Stop. I can't breathe," he gasped out.

"That's the idea," Bucky said pleasantly.

Chris struggled desperately as Bucky's hand tightened like a vise around his throat. He just couldn't get any air. If he didn't get out of Bucky's grip sooner, he was pretty sure he was going to die. His vision was already starting to go spotty at the edges and that just panicked him even more. He was not about to die in a strange universe, strangled to death in a fucking Captain America costume.

So he did the only thing he could think of: kneeing Bucky in the balls as hard as he could.

Bucky let out a small, pained gasp and his grip faltered just a little.

Chris quickly shoved him aside and rolled away, bracing himself on his hands and knees as he panted for air.

He flinched when Bucky loomed over him. If the man really meant to kill him, now was the perfect opportunity while he was too weak to offer up any resistance.

But to his great surprise, Bucky broke into a wide grin.

"You're definitely not Steve," he said. "Steve's too nice. He would never try to hurt me, even if his own life was at risk. But you've got a healthy sense of self-preservation. That's good. You might just be able to keep his body alive until we get him back."

Chris smiled weakly. "Thanks, I guess."

Bucky nodded, the smile fading into his normal, serious expression. "You were lucky this time. You panicked and stopped thinking. That won't win you many fights. Stay focused next time."

Next time? Fuck no. There was no way he was sparring with Bucky again. Not unless Natasha put a gun to his head. Which was, sadly, a very real possibility.


	9. Chapter 9

The next morning, Chris heaved a sigh as Coulson brought out the clipboard.

"Let me guess," he said. "You want me to do my run in fifteen minutes today. And you want Bucky to try and kill me again."

"If I tried to kill you, you would be dead," Bucky said as he shoved a spoonful of oatmeal in his mouth.

Chris eyed the food longingly. He was already hungry, but Coulson always forced him to go running before breakfast. Extra motivation to get back quicker, he supposed. But he was also sure he'd be able to run better if he wasn't focused on his damn stomach.

"No," Coulson said. "We're going to do something a little different today. By now, you should have a good grasp of the basics of combat. Learning any more at this point is counterproductive."

Which was probably the polite way of telling him he would never be able to learn anything more advanced. It was fine. Chris was inclined to agree with him.

"So we're going to take a day off from your physical training and work on some of Captain America's other duties. The Captain is overdue for a statement to the press."

"What?" Chris spluttered. "No. No, no, no. Absolutely not. I'm not ready for this. The second I open my mouth, everyone's going to know I'm not Steve and it's going to be a massive shitshow."

Coulson delicately massaged his temples. "You're an actor, yes? I'm sure you can put on a good front for at least an hour."

"An hour? Hell no. I'm sure I can pull off a food words about how the Avengers are working great as a team, keeping everybody safe, and blah blah all that bullshit. But an hour? What the hell am I supposed to talk about? I don't know what you guys have been up to."

"We'll give you a briefing before you go. And the rest of the team will be there to back you up."

Clint groaned. "Are you kidding me? I hate these things."

"You're a team," Coulson said firmly. "And that means not leaving Chris to fend for himself."

"Ugh, fine," Clint said. "Steve's going to owe me big time when he gets back. Lucky bastard. Wherever he is, I'm sure he's not sitting through a press conference."

"And after the press conference, Captain Rogers is scheduled to make an appearance at a children's hospital."

Chris perked up. "Oh, I love seeing the kids. I've gone on visits in character back in my world. It should be pretty much the same thing. Kids believe superheroes are real, and in your world they are. And really, all kids want is to see you care, that you're taking time to show up and listen and interact with them."

"Good," Coulson said. "If you're good at interacting with children and enjoy doing so, it'll help reassure the public that Captain America is still here." He made a note on his clipboard. "We'll have to schedule more of these visits if you're still with us in the next month."

God, Chris hoped not. For everybody's sake.

Coulson spent the morning giving him a briefing of what to expect during the press conference. Luckily, it was done over breakfast so Chris sipped his green smoothie and took notes while Coulson went over every battle the Avengers had gone through since the events of the movie. It was surprising how far ahead their world was from his. Back in the real world, they were in the middle of filming. But the Avengers had already beaten Ultron, had time to work things out and come back as a team, and then take on six different city-destroying monsters. The most recent of them was some space slug called Slorgath, that had created the giant crater in the middle of the city.

"You know the Captain well enough by now to know how he'd feel on the issues," Coulson said. "But if you do get stuck, Mr. Stark will be happy to jump in and hijack the question. He always is." He shot Tony a disapproving look.

Chris sighed. "This is going to be so awkward."

"Great," Tony said. "Just like normal. Cap has never really been comfortable in front of the press. He likes press conferences a little better than charity fundraisers, but still."

"Charity fundraisers?" Chris said weakly. What other horrors did he have to look forward to?

Tony clapped him on the back. "No pressure, Chris Cap. Let's do this."

The press conference was scheduled for right after lunch, which was unfortunate because Chris felt like throwing up.

The room itself was pretty enormous. It could easily hold five hundred people. And from the rows and rows of chairs set up, it looked like the room was going to be at capacity. In the very front of the room was a simple table that Coulson directed them to. Chris was seated towards the far end, with Thor on his right, in case he tried to bolt, he supposed. The rest of the team was seated to his left.

As more and more reporters filed in, Chris started to really feel the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. If he fucked this up, everybody would know.

Tony opened the press conference with, "Well, l don't know about you, but I'm hungry and the sooner you ask your questions, the sooner we get out of here."

Chris gave him a stunned look. That seemed unspeakably rude and unprofessional. But who was he kidding? That was Tony Stark's defining character.

Several hands went up at once.

Chris's heart sank. So many questions. They'd be here for awhile.

"You," Tony said, pointing to a reporter in the far back. "The one with the glasses and the weird hat."

The reporter cleared his throat. "This is a question for Captain Rogers. What are you doing to track down Slorgath and what are you doing to make sure he doesn't get away again next time?"

"That's a very good question," Chris said.

Too bad he didn't know the answer.

Tony tugged his microphone closer. "Oh, come on. Why don't you guys ever ask me these kinds of questions? You know Cap's just going to tell you Bruce and I created an program to track down Slorgath and his slug buddies that'll ping as soon as the beasts get within 10 miles of the city."

Tony seemed really proud of this algorithm of his. Something something about alien space armor, slime, unique radioactive signature. From what Chris could comprehend, it was something like in the first Avengers movie, where they had a program to track the Tesseract's energy signature. And that seemed like a really helpful tool for the team, which was probably all the public really needed to know. But Tony was still talking, getting really involved in all the technical specs. This was the point that Steve would try to reel him in, Chris realized.

Chris took a deep breath and reached for his own mic. "Look, yeah, Stark's doing a great job with the technical stuff. And the rest of us are training hard, going over the footage from last time and talking about where we can improve. It's a team effort. And the next time Slorgath shows up, we'll be ready for him." He took a deep breath. "Er, next question?"

Thank god the next question wasn't directed his way. He took a moment to glance down the line at the team, feeling relief in Natasha's nod, Tony's grin and Clint's subtle thumb's up.

Maybe this wasn't as hard as he thought.

The press conference lasted for almost two hours. But by the end of it, Chris felt like he had really hit his stride. He was actually answering questions reporters put to him, using what he knew about Steve's character and the way he was known for motivational speeches to reassure everyone that the Avengers were ready to take on whatever threat came their way.

Nobody seemed to suspect that he was an impostor.

Once Coulson finally ushered the reporters out of the building, the whole team started cheering.

"Well done, my friend," Thor said. "You are not the Captain, but you do an excellent imitation. I see why you were chosen to portray him in the movies."

Chris beamed. Maybe he wasn't as bad at this as he thought.

"Well done, Chris," Coulson said. "We have a few hours for the team scheduled at the children's hospital and then you're free for the rest of the evening."

Holy shit, that sounded fantastic. A nice relaxing evening after the long week of training. There were probably so many amazing fun activities in the Tower. But Chris would just be happy eating dinner without trying to pass out on the plate.

Coulson dropped the team off in front of the hospital. But as soon as Clint reached for the door, a wave of billowing green smoke sent everyone coughing and taking a step back.

"Well, well, well," purred a familiar British voice. "What do we have here?"

"That's just Tom Hiddleston, right?" Chris said uneasily.

Natasha stepped in front of him, knives drawn. "Nope."

Well, they were probably fucked. From the way Loki was portrayed in the movies, they'd probably need the entire team to take him down. But at this point, the only thing Chris could really do was stay out of the way and try not to get himself killed.

Loki stepped through the mist, clad in full armor, golden horns and all. He grinned widely. "Hello, Avengers. How charming to see you all again. It's been far too long since our last skirmish."

"Not long enough," Clint muttered.

Loki's smile widened as his eyes flicked over the group. "I see not all the Avengers are here today. Imagine that."

Steve frowned as he surveyed the team. As far as he knew, everybody was there. Unless maybe Rhodey was an official part of the team now?

"Yes," Loki said with obvious delight. "Your Captain appears to be missing. And a stranger has taken his place."

How on earth did Loki know that?

"Surprised?" Loki said. "I'm the one who summoned him."

"I knew it," Tony said triumphantly. "I fucking knew it. Didn't I tell you guys it had to be Loki?"

"Come forward, Captain," Loki said, crooking a finger. "The time to claim your place at my side has now come."

"There's no way in hell you're taking him," Clint growled. "He's staying with us."

"He's with me," Loki said serenely. "I summoned forth a dark Captain from one of the many universes. He will break your team from within, destroy your Captain's good reputation, and assist me in finally wiping out you meddlesome heroes for good."

"Uh, there's been some mistake," Chris said. "I'm just an actor."

"What?" Loki snarled. "An actor?"

Chris nodded. "You must have gotten the wrong universe. I don't have any dark powers."

"Miserable human," Loki growled. He thrust out a hand.

Chris saw a flash of green light and then everything went dark.


	10. Chapter 10

For a long while, Chris felt like he was floating in a black void. But gradually, he became aware of little points of pain, cold, and incessant beeping. With a great effort, he managed to pry his eyes open.

Oh. He was in a hospital.

That was pretty surprising. Steve's body was supposed to heal so fast he didn't need to be hospitalized. So if he was bedridden and hooked up to an IV and a heart monitor, Loki had to really have beaten the crap out of him.

Suddenly he could hear a voice over the sound of the monitor.

"No, we're keeping it quiet as possible. He's a good guy. He doesn't need the whole world to watch him fall apart. God, I know what that's like."

Chris craned his neck to watch Tony pace around his hospital room, deep in conversation on the phone.

Or maybe not. Tony wouldn't be caught dead in plaid pants and a beanie.

He locked eyes with Chris, hissed, "I'll talk to you later. He's waking up," into the phone, and hurriedly shoved it into his pocket. He was at Chris' bedside in an instant with a smile. "Hey, you're awake. How're you feeling, tiger?"

Chris struggled to sit up. "Rob?" he asked hesitantly.

"No, no, don't get up yet. The doctors are going to want to take a look at you and make sure you don't have a concussion from that fall."

Chris sagged back into the bed with relief. So he had fallen and hit his head. That explained everything. "Oh thank god," he said, squeezing his eyes shut. "I thought I was dreaming all kinds of crazy shit."

"I'm afraid not," Robert said. "You really did jump off that roof."

Chris' eyes flew open. "Wait, what?"

Robert shook his head. "You don't remember, do you? I guess I'm not surprised. You were really, really drunk."

Chris groaned and pressed his palms into his eyes. "Okay, let me have it. I want to hear the whole story."

"Alright, we'll take it from the top. What's the last thing you remember?"

"Dinner," Chris said. "Crab legs and a couple beers."

"Oh no, my friend," Robert said. "It was way more than a few beers. More like a keg."

"Aw, fuck."

Robert crossed his arms over his chest. "You want to tell me about your drinking problem?"

"I don't have a drinking problem."

"That's what they all say," Robert said with a sage nod. "Hell, I've said it more times than I could count. But you can't get help until you admit that you really need it."

Chris pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, Rob, I really appreciate it, but I-"

"We helped you out this time. Since nobody actually saw you jump, thank god, as far as the press knows, you got injured in a freak accident on set. But next time you go on a bender like that, we're not covering it up. Maybe it'll be the kick in the ass you need to get help."

Chris sighed. "It won't happen again. I promise."

The door opened and Sebastian poked his head inside. "Hi, can I come in? Is he-" His eyes flicked to Robert. "Is he okay now?"

"He's fine," Robert said. "Well, he's a little banged up. But fine otherwise. I don't even think he has a concussion."

"Good." Sebastian stepped inside and let the door close behind him. He glared at Chris. "Not cool, man. You should have told us the pressure was getting to you."

Goddamn it. This was an intervention, wasn't it? One by one, all his castmates were going to file into the room and give him disapproving looks and lectures about his mental health. Just fucking great. He was never going to live this down.

"Look," Chris began.

"No, you look here," Sebastian said heatedly. "I don't want to get anymore calls that I need to come drive you home because you drank a fucking gallon of beer. And I don't ever want to see you jump off a roof again."

Chris winced. "It won't happen again. I promise." He held out his hand.

Sebastian eyed his outstretched hand warily.

"What's the matter?" Chris said. "I'm really sorry about last night, but we're still cool, right?"

"We're friends," Sebastian said, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets. "But we're not that close, okay?"

Chris' jaw dropped. "Look, whatever I said last night, I'm sorry. I…wasn't feeling like myself. I didn't mean it."

"Er, no," Robert said. "You were kind of convinced last night that you were actually Captain America and Sebastian was actually Bucky and the second he showed up, you started crying and we had to actually peel you off him because you just wouldn't let go."

Chris buried his face in his hands. Of course. In Steve's world, Bucky was on the run, not entirely sure he could trust anybody, even Steve. For Sebastian to just walk up him with a smile and open friendship, well, he couldn't exactly blame Steve's dramatic reaction. It didn't make it any less embarrassing.

"I am so, so sorry, Sebastian," Chris said. "You're right. We're not that close and that was really inappropriate. I'm sorry for putting you in that position."

"It's fine," Sebastian said stiffly. "You're a weepy drunk. Not that unusual. But no more jumping off buildings. You're not actually Captain America."

"I'm very aware of that," Chris said with a wry grin.

It was slightly comforting to know he'd handled the transformation better than Steve had. He might have freaked out a little. Or maybe a lot. But still, he hadn't jumped off a building.

"I know having to be Captain America is a lot of responsibility," Robert began.

"No," Chris said firmly. "It isn't. I'm just an actor. I'm not actually risking my life to save the world. This has really put things in perspective for me. Sure, I might have difficulty learning my lines sometimes and hate doing press junkets, but I have it pretty easy. Who the fuck am I to have a mental breakdown over a movie role?"

Robert looked surprised for a second and then he grinned. "Well, there's hope for you yet. But I'll be keeping an eye on you just in case. And Sebastian will, too."

"No, no, no," Chris said. "Sebastian doesn't have time to babysit me. I'm sure he has other projects to-"

"Nope," Sebastian said. "I'll be shooting my scene next week."

"But you're not even in Ultron," Chris protested.

"Oh, you didn't know? They added a scene at the end where Coulson's team finds Bucky at the Smithsonian and brings him in."

"That doesn't even make sense," Chris said. "Won't it ruin how Civil War plays out?"

Both men looked at him blankly.

"Never mind," Chris said. He flashed them a smile. "I can't wait to get back to filming."

And he couldn't wait to see the new script. Maybe he was just an actor, but it sure felt like he had just saved the world.


End file.
